


One Touch Away

by Rubyleaf



Category: Shadow of the Fox Series - Julie Kagawa
Genre: Canon Compliant, Good Boyfriend Taiyo Daisuke, M/M, Mutual Pining, Or: The story around the glorious Dream Scene, Romance, Self-Deprecating Hino Okame, UST, eventual hand holding, late-night conversations, oh my god they were roommates, so much UST you can cut it with a knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyleaf/pseuds/Rubyleaf
Summary: Deep down, both Daisuke and Okame are happy to be sharing a room. But even deeper down, it becomes a difficult night as hiding their feelings grows harder and harder.
Relationships: Hino Okame/Taiyo Daisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	One Touch Away

It’s a strange new feeling, sharing a room with someone.

Daisuke has never had to do that before, not even when growing up with his brothers. One of the upsides of being a Taiyo is that all the homes are large enough to have plenty of rooms for everyone; he doesn’t think he has slept in the same bedroom with anyone since he stopped sharing one with his parents as an infant.

And now, here he is. Staying in the same room as someone who isn’t family at all—and for that bit Daisuke is grateful.

“I’ll just take up this little corner here,” Okame remarks, huddling up as far from the door as possible. “Don’t let me disturb you. If I snore, just kick me or something.”

Daisuke smiles despite the prick of sadness in his chest. Does he always have to say such things? It is growing frustrating, watching one he cares about belittle himself like that.

“I will,” he says with a smile, “but only if you promise to do the same, should you catch me talking in my sleep.”

Okame snorts. “ _You_ talk in your sleep? How dishonorable, Taiyo-san. What would people say if they knew?”

“They would call me human, I hope,” Daisuke answers. “Though I have to admit I’m not certain I do. It’s not like I can hear myself while sleeping.”

“You don’t,” Okame answers. “At least, not that I’ve ever heard it. The only one who does that is Yumeko-chan.”

“And I,” Daisuke retorts, “have never been disturbed by your snoring.”

“It’s less bad when I’m sober.” Yawning, Okame curls up in his futon, facing the wall. “Just a fair warning.”

Daisuke remains standing, holding his own futon, wondering where to lie down. The generous spaciousness of the room is both a blessing and a curse. Would it be wrong for him to sleep close to Okame when the ronin has given him all this room? Is him squeezing himself into the smallest corner an attempt at courtesy or a request to be left alone?

“Are you comfortable in that corner?” Daisuke asks quietly. Okame turns around.

“I’m not used to these big rooms,” he says with a lopsided grin. “I’d rather sleep in a closet than this thing. At least in a smaller space, nothing can creep up on you.”

“Nothing will.”

Following a sudden impulse, Daisuke crosses the room, placing his futon down as close to Okame’s as manners allow. “If anything enters this room unbidden,” he says, “I will lie between you and the door, and anything that tries to hurt you will have to go through me first.” He smiles. “Rest assured.”

Okame looks like he wants to make a witty remark, then he cracks a defeated smile. “That’s actually reassuring,” he admits. “Well played, Taiyo-san. I can’t even say anything to that.”

Daisuke smiles, and Okame sighs. “Even if I don’t get why you’re saying all that, peacock,” he mutters. “That’s a pretty big favor you’re doing me. How can a ronin dog even repay that?”

_You’re wrong,_ Daisuke thinks. _It is not you I am doing a favor. I have made this offer for entirely selfish reasons._

“Don’t be ridiculous, Okame-san,” he says out loud, frowning. “You are my friend. Do not insult me with this talk of repayment.”

“All right, all right.” Okame crawls back into his futon, facing the wall once more. “Just try not to breathe in my direction too much. I probably smell of sake.”

Daisuke lies down. The ronin is less than an arm’s reach away, his reddish brown hair, undone for the night, spilling out of the futon and onto the floor. He does smell of sake. Daisuke finds he doesn’t mind.

He wouldn’t even mind, he thinks, if the two of them were lying closer, much closer—if Okame was facing his way, if they were right beside each other, close enough to intertwine their legs and get tangled in each other’s arms. He wouldn’t mind if they fell asleep in an embrace, their breathing and heartbeats synchronizing, taking refuge in each other’s warmth against the chilly air of Hakumei Castle.

But here they are, sleeping in the same room, alone, unobserved, and they must lie separately, just out of each other’s reach.

For how long, Daisuke wonders?

_How much longer until you understand, Okame-san?_

_Do you not love me, or will you not?_

He extends his hand. His fingers hover a breath from the sleeping ronin’s back, hesitating to touch his shoulder blade or run through his hair.

Finally Daisuke pulls back. No point in ruining this, he thinks, even as regret pulses through his fingertips.

He closes his eyes.

“You do smell of sake, Okame-san,” he whispers, knowing the ronin can’t hear him. “But I am glad you’re here.”

—

Okame lies awake, staring at the wall and trying to keep his breath from hitching.

_I am glad you’re here._ His chest feels warm, his body suddenly restless, more restless than it was before. This room is dangerous. Taiyo Daisuke lying only an arm’s reach away is more dangerous than all the shinobi of the Shadow Clan, and the noble doesn’t even seem to notice.

_I am glad you’re here._ Okame pretends not to have heard it, pretends to be sleeping, even as the whispered sentence echoes in his mind. He wants to turn around. He wants to roll over and look at the noble’s face, his silvery hair spilling over his shoulders, his pale face peaceful with an ethereal glow. Facing away from Taiyo Daisuke feels increasingly like torture. And yet he restrains himself.

The Taiyo noble is dangerous. He is beautiful and kind, honest and loyal and generous, and he makes Okame feel appreciated and respected in a way he doesn’t deserve. Even more, he makes him feel _loved_ , and that is the most dangerous emotion of them all.

Taiyo Daisuke doesn’t love him. He can’t love him. Because if he does…

If he does, then Okame’s feelings will not be one-sided. If he does, then he will have to choose between lying and breaking the noble’s heart on one hand and certain death on the other. He is a ronin, less than human even to ordinary samurai. Stray dogs should be left alone—you never know what diseases they carry, if the mere act of petting them puts you at risk of a slow and painful death.

_What are you thinking about? He doesn’t feel that way, idiot. He’s so far out of your reach you shouldn’t even be looking at him._

Taiyo Daisuke is beautiful, beloved, respectable. Okame is none of these things. And yet…

And yet, here they are. Both too close and too far, trapped together in a room until the end of the night.

He wishes he could turn around, reach for the noble’s hand, intertwine their fingers. He wishes he could kiss it with his lips still smelling of alcohol, reach around his waist, pull him into his arms. He wishes they could fall asleep like that, wake up like that. Kiss each other goodnight and good morning.

_I’m still drunk, am I?_

Okame closes his eyes and tries not to think of anything. This is going to be a long night.

—

Daisuke opens his eyes, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Little by little reality kicks in, and his beautiful dream begins to fade before his eyes. Just a moment ago he was standing on a bridge under the full moon, finally pulling Hino Okame into a passionate kiss. Now he is back in reality and has to come to terms with the fact that his dream may never become more than that: a sweet dream and nothing else.

Rubbing his temples, he sighs and rolls onto his side again. The sun has not yet risen. Okame is fast asleep, still facing the wall, curled up in his futon as best as he can.

Daisuke adjusts himself. To have him this close, yet so far, after such a dream feels almost like an insult. It is as if reality itself is mocking him: mocking these feelings that any respectable samurai would call scandalous at best, and treasonous at worst. If only he could simply do the same thing as in the dream, confess his love and be done with it. But as long as he doesn’t know if Okame reciprocates, such actions are too likely to backfire on him. He isn’t satisfied now, but he is not yet ready to risk ruining what they already have.

He should go back to sleep. Hope he won’t dream of the same thing again.

But just when he is about to close his eyes, Okame turns around.

And looks at him.

For a few seconds the world stands still. Their gazes meet and interlock. Neither of them says a word.

“Okame-san,” Daisuke finally breaks the silence. “You are awake.”

The ronin yawns. “I’m a light sleeper,” he says. “I thought I heard something creak and wanted to see if anybody had come to kill us.”

Daisuke gives a slight smile. “I’m afraid that was only me rolling over,” he remarks. “My apologies. I did not mean to wake you.”

“Nah, didn’t sound like that. I probably dreamed it.” Okame rolls onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms. “So what’s got you awake, peacock?”

Daisuke’s gaze strays away into the distance, his eyes glazing over. “I wonder,” he mutters. “I suppose something about this place makes it difficult to sleep.” _Not exactly a lie._

“Hm. Yeah, I guess.” Okame yawns again. “You keep expecting some shinobi to jump out of the ceiling or something.”

Daisuke laughs. “I do hope that’s impossible,” he answers. “But you never know with the Kage.”

“Maybe one of them opens a Path of Shadows into our room,” Okame jokes.

“An awful choice, especially for the return journey,” Daisuke replies. “Both of us would do our best to take them into Meido with us.”

Okame grins. “Don’t remind me. They’d better hope we both turn into vengeful yurei so we can’t do that.”

They both laugh. Abruptly Daisuke realizes how close Okame is lying, close enough to touch, his dark eyes glinting with mischief in the dim light of the setting moon.

Sobering up, he gazes at the ronin with a fond, gentle smile. “You know,” he says, “before I woke up, I was dreaming of you.”

A variety of emotions passes over Okame’s face. He looks down, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says. “Even in your sleep you’re not free from me.”

Daisuke’s smile fades. “It was a good dream.”

“So I died in it? That’s alright then.”

“ _Okame-san!_ ”

The ronin looks up, visibly startled by the sudden emotion in Daisuke’s voice.

“Why do you keep saying such things?” Daisuke asks him, frustrated. “Why must you insult yourself in this way?”

The grin on Okame’s face turns bitter. “Because if I don’t say all that,” he says, “somebody else will.”

“Send them to me, then.”

Against better judgment, against all reason, Daisuke reaches out and places a hand on the ronin’s arm. “Send anyone who insults you to me,” he says, “and I shall teach them not to speak ill of my friend.”

Something in Okame’s face softens, and his smile grows sad. “Thanks, peacock,” he mutters. “But…you don’t have to. They’re right, you know.”

“How dare you speak of my friend in this way!”

Okame chuckles into his futon. “Well played,” he says. “But really—don’t bother with me. I’m a lost cause.” His voice grows faint, so quiet Daisuke needs to strain his ears to catch the next sentence. “All I do is bring dishonor on the people I’m with.”

_You idiot. You idiot. How can you be so blind?_

Daisuke closes his eyes, forcing down the surge of pain and sympathy in his chest. How can Okame not realize how much he matters? How can he continue living his life and still be so blind to all the good things he has about him?

“Perhaps other samurai would give me odd looks for calling you my friend,” Daisuke admits. “But no one will think worse of me for defending the honor of someone I respect, all the more so if that person cannot do it himself.”

“You think? That’s optimistic.”

Daisuke looks at him. Really looks at him.

“I am well beloved at the court,” he says. “People are willing to forgive a great deal from a person they love.”

For a long moment Okame doesn’t reply to that. A shadow passes across his face, then he turns away, sighing and placing a hand on top of Daisuke’s own. “Sounds stupid to me.”

Daisuke brushes his thumb over the ronin’s long, calloused fingers. “Your hands are cold,” he murmurs.

“Yours are warm,” Okame answers. “Maybe it’s the sake. First I was hot, and now I’m freezing.”

The moon sets over Iwagoto. Dawn begins to rise. Inside the dark room a ronin and a noble fall asleep hand in hand, not caring for the moment about ranks and honor.

Morning finds them arm in arm, sprawled between their futons, Daisuke’s head resting against Okame’s chest. Their hands are still clasped together, their legs all over the place to the point where it’s hard to tell which ones are whose.

This is how Reika finds them as she barges into the door, but if she thinks anything about it, she keeps her mouth shut.

They choose not to speak about it.


End file.
